


You Smell Like Johnson

by Nighten_Gale



Series: Scented Love [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Its honestly fluff, M/M, Marco basically is a soccer player, Marco loves soccer, jean is jean, omf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4907221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nighten_Gale/pseuds/Nighten_Gale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re lonely?” His head moved to face me.</p><p>“Yeah,” I whispered, “Yeah, I am…”</p><p>I felt the bed move underneath me and before I noticed Marco was turned on his side, facing me. “What if you fell in love with me?”</p><p>The short one-shot when Jean has been feeling lonely a lot more often then he should and chooses to relax on a window everyday since. It just so happened to be one day where a soccer player ends up hitting Jean in the head with a ball. But the thing is, it was on purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Smell Like Johnson

**Author's Note:**

> You understand I'm supposed to be studying the Israeli-Palestinian conflict right?  
> KBHJILWNFLSJNCLSJNCJNCSDJNCDJN THANK YOU FOR AT LEAST LOOKING AT IT

I get lonely. Super damn lonely, and it hurts sometimes, y’know? Billions and Billions of people are out there yet I can’t seem to communicate with one. My dad says it’s my personality, and that I’m too mean and snarky, but what’s wrong with who I am? I try, I really do. I try and talk with the people that claim are my friends but – I know they don’t give a single shit about me.

So that’s why I sit on the windowsill with my leg hanging out and dangling in the air while the rest of my body stayed inside. I suppose you could say it was a lazy and stupid spot to rest in, but it was my getaway. The view was beautiful here. It was a window right on the front of our house, so I could see the others in our neighborhood. But there were trees, the sky, and the cool summer breeze; factors that made this place a portal to another universe.

I ran my hand through my hair and leaned my head back against the side of the window. My eyelids were shut so I could just listen to the birds chirping and the rustling of the trees every time the wind would dance through them. Just like every day, it was peaceful.

That was until my head got hit with a soccer ball.

“Oh SH-“ I nearly swore out, falling inside my room. Whoever the _fuck_ kicked that sure kicked it hard because it left my head aching.

“Marco!” A girl yelled out.

“Oh my god, guys. I think I- I won’t have to pay for insurance, right??” A man (sounding a little panicky) said.

“You idiot, get the ball back! And see if he’s okay!”

Seconds later, the doorbell rang. My parents weren’t home, fan-fucking-tastic. So that meant answering the door was my job. Groaning and mumbling out curse words, I grabbed the ball that so kindly slammed the side of my head and ran down the stairs. Once I opened the door, my flickering gaze met with the hazel brown eyes of another. He was buff, and slightly taller than me; his hair was a dark brown (dark enough to be classified as black) and was parted in the middle. He was sweating, sweating hard. You could even see the reflection of the sweat against the sunlight. He was also nicely tanned, and had a shitload of freckles on his face.

“That is a lot of freckles…” I whispered mostly to myself.

His eyes widened and he blushed softly, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck, “O-Oh, thanks..?”

“OH, FUCK- Wait- Shit- OH- shit fucking ballsacks-“ I just shut up there. I _refused_ to say another word at that point.

As my gaze moved away from his to attempt looking at the vase right beside my door, I heard a loud giggle. I looked up again at him and saw him laughing, hand held right above his mouth.

“Shit- Hey that wasn’t funny,” I snapped at him, blushing a lot more than I expected.

He shut up at that, biting his lip and setting his hand down. “Sorry,” he chuckled out, “I couldn’t help it. But! I’m really sorry about the soccer ball…” He motioned towards the ball in my hands.

I looked where he was pointing and shook my head, “It’s fine.” _Liar._ I tossed it to him and he caught it with ease.

“I’m Marco,” he said, catching me by surprise.

I blinked at him – confused. “Jean.”

“Oh,” he smiled, “Can I be honest? I saw you sitting on your window and you looked pretty lonely. I wanted to catch your attention but I wasn’t sure how. I-I promise though, I didn’t mean to hit your head! Really, I actually just wanted to ask you-“

“Marco!” A girl came running into my view.

“Huh? Oh, Sasha.” Marco turned around to her.

“Kick me the ball!”

He laughed and dropped the ball, kicking in her direction before turning back to me. “I’ll see you around,” he said before running back to the girl.

“…Right,” I said causally, somewhat disappointed. _Ask me what?_

                                                          

* * *

 

The next day I sat on the window again.

“Hey! Jean!”

I looked down and saw Marco, a soccer ball in his hand.

I gave him a puzzled look and he laughed, “Can you come down?”

“Yeah…” I said awkwardly, “Give me a minute.” I honestly felt hesitant to do so, but I couldn’t take this chance away. I ran downstairs and slipped on my shoes, opening the door and running out. I swear I looked fucking stupid when I saw the soccer ball coming my way. Out of habit, I kicked it straight back and saw as Marco stopped it with his foot.

“Not bad.”

“Some complement,” I rolled my eyes, laughing at myself a bit. “I’ll have you know soccer was my childhood shit.”

He laughed at me, “Alright. Play me, big guy. Show me what you got.”

I smirked, “Okay. Let’s go.”

 

Yeah, well I fell on my ass for the probably tenth time.

“Not fair,” I grumbled, “I tripped on the ball.”

Marco ran up to me, offering his hand out. “You’ve said that twelve times.”

I took it, smiling. “Well, that’s probably what happened _twelve_ times.”

We dusted ourselves off, bodies completely covered in sweat. Before we knew it, we ended up playing at least till sundown, which was surprising. I never played this much, nor have I ever been outside for so long. There was a shock of energy running through me during the entire day, and it felt so good.

“I think I should be heading home,” he smiled at me as he juggled the ball on his knees and head.

“Oh cmon. We played hours straight. Come over,” I offered. I have no idea when, but I seemed to have lightened up to this guy.

“Nah. My mom’s gonna worry. Aren’t your parents too?”

I sighed and shook my head, “They rarely come home now. I bet you they’re not even there.”

He paused for some time to gather his thoughts, his eyebrows furrowed. Then, he let the ball fall into his hands and looked straight at me, “Come over to _my_ place then. It’ll be alright, my mom’s cool and everything. You see, I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Wh- Marco!”

Marco laughed, “What? You said it yourself we’ve been playing for hours straight. Just come on. Please?”

Shit, I had to give it. “Argh, fuck. C’mon lets go.”

He honestly wasn’t kidding. His mom was fucking fantastic and kind and sweet and mostly everything you would find in the “best mom ever.” However, she did tease us both about being stinky with body odor and such. That ended with us both being forced to take a shower – me first. I used Marco’s shower obviously. It made me laugh though because he had a really bad Johnson fetish. He literally had a Johnson everything. Shit, I may smell like a baby after this.

I then finally realized with a towel wrapped around my waist that I had no clothes besides my sweaty ones (which weren’t even in my possession at the moment).

“God damn…” I ran my hands through my wet, clean hair before stepping out of the bathroom and directed myself to Marco’s bedroom which he showed me just before I was sent to the bathroom.

“Hey Marco, “I called out as I started opening the door, “I don’t have any-“

“Jean!”

“Wha…” My eyes shot wide once my eyes fell on a naked Marco. His body was still slightly wet and he was in the middle of drying his body.

_Holy fuck._

Marco’s body was really, _really_ hot actually. His muscles were so well defined and his tanned body was equal all over. There really were freckles scattered honestly everywhere. Damn. I think I see some on his ass-

SHIT, I’M STARING.

“Th-That’s a lot of freckles you have there, Marco.”

“J-Jean!” He yelled again, holding his towel over his private area as he turned face towards me.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to,” I yelled back, turning my back towards him.

I could feel it – this super awkward tension. I was blushing like crazy and my chest started feeling a little hot, not to mention the butterflies in my stomach. Was there a moment when I felt this before? No, I don’t think so. Shit, this new feeling sucks ass. Well, sucking Marco’s ass wouldn’t be so-

WOAH, WOAH, WOAH.

“God, what the fuck!?” I loudly whispered.

“I used my mom’s shower,” Marco started and I turned around. He had clothes on – thank god – and he was folding his towel to hang it on a rack attached to his wall.

“Oh..”

“Did I not give you any clothes?”

“Well,” I motioned towards my half naked self, “Yeah.”

I could feel him stare at me longingly for a moment, “Sorry about that.. Here,” he dug into his cabinet and pulled out some clothes before throwing it to me, “Yours is in the laundry. My mom couldn’t help it,” he laughed awkwardly.

I caught the clothes and chuckled, “ I see. I get that don’t worry man.” I don’t need this to get more gay than it already is. “No homo?”

He faintly smiled at me and turned around, “Yeah,” there was a little disappointment in his voice which made my eyebrow raise, “You can change here. I won’t look.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I took charge of that and let the towel drop to the floor. I closed the bedroom door behind me finally and started putting on some boxers before I realized again that it was his.

His fucking boxers.

But no homo again, right?

I attempted brushing off the feeling and put on his shorts when Marco moved and laid down on his back on the bed; his glance didn’t move to my direction though so I kept going. “About the other day,” he said quietly, “When I hit your head with the ball.”

There was a moment of silence before I actually looked back up at him. The shirt was already on me so I started to walk to him, “Yeah?”

Marco smiled at the ceiling. “I really, like, really really.. wanted to get your attention.”

I looked down at him, my face softening on its own.

He continued, “I must really sound weird, but it’s true. I see you when you’re sitting on the window every day. You stare out and observe the nature more than the people bellow you, as if you have no interest in them. Or at least you’ve lost your interest. But… you looked and seemed so lonely.”

“Am I really that see-through?” I asked him, finally taking in the courage to lay down beside him.

“You’re lonely?” His head moved to face me.

To me, there was no point in holding the truth back. If I had to admit it honestly, I was willing to admit to him. Even if we’d only met and became… something in only two days, I felt like I could trust him. So I nodded. “Yeah,” I whispered, “Yeah, I am…”

I felt the bed move underneath me and before I noticed Marco was turned on his side, facing me. “What if you fell in love with me?”

My eyes made no movement, but my heart skipped a beat. Literally. I could feel it. I swallowed and turned on my side, facing him this time.

Time gave us a moment to stare at each other, to look into each other’s eyes and understand the feelings hidden behind our hazel eyes.

“Will you be lonely then?” He asked.

 I narrowed my eyebrows thoughtfully. “I don’t know..”

Marco started back at me, letting out a soft sigh. His hand raised and moved towards me. I closed my eyes as I felt it softly caress my cheeks. _‘No homo’, my ass._

“I want you to fall in love with me. From the minute I said a word to you, I did.” He whispered back quietly

I opened my eyes again and smiled at him, “Is that how you wanted to start off? Hitting me in the head with a soccer ball?”

He started to smile back at me. “I thought it would be romantic.”

“Well it was.”

“Does that mean you’re giving me a chance?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

“Jeean..”

I grinned at him. “I am, Marco, I am.”

The minute I claimed I would I felt big arms wrap around me.

”Oomph!”

His hold tightened, “Thank you..”

I blinked slowly. He was so warm; it made me wonder how long it was since I’ve felt such warmth. I smiled like an idiot and moved so my head was snuggled against his chest. _Johnson… That’s how you smell like right now, Marco._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading P_P


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